


Singularity (Part 3)

by QuietDarkness



Series: Simplicity and Complexity (Harrisco) [58]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 16:13:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16663996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuietDarkness/pseuds/QuietDarkness
Summary: Harry finds Cisco, but Coster isn't going to make things easy on either of them.His manipulations lead to a terrible ending for one, and a painful possible future for the other.Hell is real, and the Devil is named Coster.'Opposites don't just attract. They catch fire and burn the entire city down.'(Part 57)





	Singularity (Part 3)

**Author's Note:**

> (I hope you enjoyed this latest installment. It'll be one pieces again after this for awhile. Any suggestions? Comments? Things you want me to write about? Anywho, all the love! -QD)

_Heart lying in my hands,_  
_I never wanted this._  
_This tear will never mend._  
_How did it come to this?_

* * *

There were books everywhere. A veritable library ranging in volumes in the hundreds as far as the eye could see. Harry could smell old paper, the faded scent of cigars, stale coffee, even moldy bookends. The lights were dim and dank. Tables were covered in paper and books, open and closed. Despite the state of the shelves and the room as a whole, each book was pristine and well tended. Old wooden chairs sat in various states of disrepair, though. What few windows he could see were shadowed gray, droplets of rain streaming down the fogged panes. The worn wooden floor beneath his boots creaked the moment he moved, filling the air around him almost startlingly. It only took him a moment to realize... he knew this place...

This was the old professor's library on campus at his first college, a place that held a touch of fondness for him simply because he was one of the few students who'd had access to it. His grades, his brains, and his respect for all things knowledge pretty much gave him access to whatever he'd wanted at that school. But this library... damn. This library had been a safe haven for him. He'd spent literal hours, sometimes days pouring over texts and documents, reading book after book, soaking up as much knowledge as his brain would allow. Seeing it now, it looked exactly the same. In fact... _precisely_ the same as the last time he'd seen it. And he only knew that because there was a single light on over a table near the center of the library. A light no one had ever bothered using but him. He'd put many a post-it note on that large hanging lamp cover as he'd studied. And on his last time through, he'd left the light on with a single note that said, _'Keep it burning. -HW'_

He plucked it off the lampshade as he approached, glancing around in confusion. “What the hell?” he mumbled, taking everything in again. He knew none of this was real. Intellectually he knew this was all some sort of scheme playing out inside whatever metaphysical box Ramon was trapped in... “Ramon.” He said out loud, turning on his heel and looking again. But he didn't see his husband. This time he only saw Coster.

“I see why you liked it here. Though, to be honest, I pictured something a bit more... modern?” He paced around, his features perpetually calm, hands hidden in the pockets of his jacket, his well tailored black suit snug around his form, his short black hair slicked back, dark eyes roaming the views around him.

“Where's Ramon?” Harry demanded. It was strange. Harry could _feel_ him, like he was just out of reach. 

“Yes, yes. We'll get to that.” Coster sighed, stopping at a bookshelf. He plucked a volume down, opening it in his hands and flipping through the pages for a moment and stopping on one in particular, reading over a paragraph and smiling. Then he read out loud. “Not from Hades' black and universal lake can you lift him. Not by groaning, not by prayers. Yet you run yourself out in a grief with no cure, no time-limit, no measure. It is a knot no one can untie. Why are you so in love with things unbearable?” 

“Sophocles.” Harry said easily, crossing his arms. “Get to the point of all this.” He wasn't in the mood for games. Unfortunately, that's all Coster ever did... played games. The Asian man smirked and slapped the book shut, slipping it back into place on the shelf like it should matter. Then turned, leaning against the bookshelf with one shoulder, hands back in his pockets.

“You know a great many things, Harry.” He said, letting his eyes linger on Harry for far longer than he liked. Dark hues roamed up and down his form, but not in a prurient way. It was more calculating than anything. “Science, literature, medicine, list goes on. Jack of all trades, master of far too many. But none of that is going to help you here.” Harry just kept staring at him. Coster nodded idly. “I'm going to offer you some information you don't have. Some I've already enlightened your dear Cisco with.” He motioned with his head then to the table behind Harry. “Take a look at a book you haven't read.” Harry narrowed his gaze, but dropped his arms, turning to look at the table.

Where there hadn't been before now lay a black leather bound book, about the size of a large encyclopedia, with no title or author, sitting directly in the light of the lamp. He furrowed his brows, hesitating a moment.

“It's a book, it doesn't bite.” Coster chided in soft annoyance.

“It's knowledge.” Harry replied without looking at him. “Last time I checked, knowledge can do all kinds of damage.” But he reached forward and slid his fingers over the top of the leather. It was smooth, weathered around the edges, but opened easily. The tell tale creak of leather shifting was soft. The pages fluttered slightly as he spread the book open before him with both hands. Empty pages. All of them, completely blank. He flipped through a few, looking up as Coster stepped toward the front of the table opposite Harry, watching him. Harry sighed, meeting his stare. “Wow. I'm blown away.” He deadpanned. Coster just smirked.

“Look again. But this time, think about Cisco.”

Harry clenched his jaw, shaking his head a little. But he looked down, sliding a palm down one empty page before turning the pages again. Okay... he could play this little game for now. _Cisco... think about Cisco..._ And he did. He thought about his laugh, how infectious it was. About Ramon sitting between his knees while Harry braided his hair. About him and Ramon having a food fight in the kitchen with the girls while they made tacos. About watching him sleep at night, the peaceful expression on Cisco's face as close to heaven as Harry would ever see. About the flush on Ramon's skin when they made love, the eager hunger in his eyes right before they'd kiss. About the way Ramon would just hold him in the quiet, no judgment, nothing but acceptance, nothing but love-

And the pages filled up with words. He snatched his hand back, like he'd been stung, eyes going a little wide. He hadn't expected that. And for a moment, he wasn't even sure he should be holding that book. Something terribly nervous began to fill his stomach and chest, an instinct telling him to stop-look no further- go back, like he was in the process of witnessing a train wreck he could do nothing about, and yet... he couldn't stop himself from reading.

And the words. The words were... the most painful words he'd ever read. Because they weren't just words. That same instinct that had told him not to read now told him that every single word was very, horribly true. He staggered back, letting the book go, the volume falling to the table with an audible thud as he turned away, breaths heaving, heart hammering. He curled a hand into his own hair, squeezing his eyes shut. “No...” he whispered, moving to a bookshelf and pressing his forehead into it, holding on to one of the shelves with his free hand, the wood creaking a little under his grip.

“Yes.” Coster said from behind him, even that one word sounding incredibly satisfied. So much so, that anger ignited within the pain drowning him. He whirled around, moving in on Coster quickly, grabbing the man by the lapels and forcing him back. He slammed Coster into another bookshelf, the whole thing shaking with the impact. Coster laughed, hands up in a mock surrender as Harry seethed. 

“It's not true!” He nearly yelled. But even he knew the words didn't hold weight. How he knew? That was a mystery he had no answers for. 

“Cisco had much the same reaction. A little less confrontational, but just as stubborn at first.” Coster smiled, grabbing Harry by the wrists and turning. Pain shot through Harry's arms, forcing him to let go as Coster forced him to back up. The man was terribly strong, but Harry didn't care. He wouldn't fall. Wouldn't give the bastard an inch if he could help it. “But just like him,” The Fallen Watcher continued, “I know what you are allows you to see the truth of it. All of it.” Harry tore his hands away, wrists instantly sore and protesting from Coster's grip, but he just stared the man down. The pain and anger and heartache boiling around his insides like acid. 

“Why?” He demanded. “Why show us this? Why would this matter to you?”

“I want to know what or who did it. And the two of you are going to help me figure that out.”

“The fuck we are.” He nearly spat. “Let Ramon go. This... this doesn't change anything, do you hear me?!” He yelled at Coster. Because... it didn't. It really didn't. 

Ramon was his. And he was Ramon's. And they had a family. And a team. And a life! They were happy, _together_! It didn't matter if some cosmic hand put them that way. It just fucking didn't, dammit! 

“Doesn't it, though? Knowing that the two of you were never supposed to be... that you being soulmates literally breaks all the rules... that you were _designed_ this way, like you designed your pulse rifle for example? That doesn't change how you see him?” Coster asked curiously, watching him. Harry shook his head instantly, let out a quick breath.

“No.” He said sincerely, his voice cracking. “I love him. I love him for everything he is, everything he's not, and everything I am when I'm with him. And I know...” He clenched his jaw, Cisco's own words coming back to him, “I know that's how it's supposed to be. And so does Ramon.” He stepped back, hands out empty at his sides. “I don't expect you to understand that.”

“You really think this knowledge hasn't undone Cisco? Hasn't... made him lose faith in the two of you?” He asked, raising his chin a little. Harry smiled then. A small, almost sad, but determined smile.

“Doubt that the stars are fire, doubt that the sun doth move his aides, doubt the truth to be a liar, but never doubt I love.” He said softly. Poetic. But perfect. And true, so very, very true.

“Hamlet, act two, scene two.” Coster said, nodding. Then he shrugged. “Let's test that theory then, shall we? If you really think nothing's changed, then let's see if you can still do what you came here to do.” He lifted a hand, fingers set to snap, “Save Cisco Ramon from me.” And then he snapped his fingers.

Again everything was darkness. The sensation of falling swallowed Harry whole, a momentary panic setting in until something strange and warm washed over him, even as he continued to fall. It was some sort of energy, familiar but not one he could put a name to. Not Hope or Axiom. Just... familiar. And safe. He focused on that. Held on to it as best he could, till the world opened up beneath him and darkness turned into open air...

* * *

_Heart lying in my hands,_  
_I never wanted this._  
_This tear will never mend._  
_How did it come to this?_

_Please don't slip away,_  
_cause my heart can't take it._  
_Don't let this be the end,_  
_don't let this be the end..._

 

* * *

It was cold.

The air was beyond crisp, threatening Autumn rain, but the gray clouds above didn't allow any moisture to break through. The dirt road stretched on in either direction for far longer than he cared to guess, rolling endless fields on either side, long since deadened by the cold snap, offering a plain view. It all seemed like something out of a depressing painting. 

Except for the dome.

It was all Harry knew to call it. A strange, rippling, blue see-through dome. And inside of it... shit. He moved the moment he realized what it was he was witnessing. People. A hundred, maybe more. All trapped inside the dome. Rationally, he knew this had to be just another one of Coster's games. But his conscience had him run into that field, straight for it, the dome rising up before him as he got closer. Men, women... children. And the dome was shrinking, bit by bit. Pleading eyes and cries for help met him at the dome wall. 

“Hang on!” Harry called out, reaching forward to touch it, only to snatch his hand back and stagger when an electric current surged through his arm. “Fuck.” He swore, shaking his hand, staring up the length of the dome as it rippled. For a not real thing, it sure hurt like a real one. He stepped back a few paces, taking in the whole scene, and a terrible sense of familiarity crept in on him.

_Kids crying, parents pleading for help..._

Was this what Cisco had vibed so repeatedly? It wasn't exactly what Cisco had described. But then again, the vibe had been bits and pieces of Ramon's point of view. What Harry was seeing-

A sharp, intense pain in his shoulder cut off any further thoughts he might have had on the matter, his body nearly crumpling as something tore right through bone and flesh, forcing him forward and nearly back into the dome. He barely caught himself, digging his boots into the dirt and dead grass as his hand came up to cling to his now profusely bleeding shoulder. Had he just been fucking shot?! 

“Drop it!” Ramon's voice called out, Harry instantly turning to see Cisco standing in the field, barely fifteen feet from him... holding a gun.

“Ramon?” He questioned, straightening slightly. Only to see Coster step into view beside him. He fought the urge to spew a string of eloquent and foul names at him and took a step forward. “Stop this, whatever this is!” he yelled at Coster. The man just smiled that ever smug, horrible smile at him. 

“That's for Cisco to do, not me.” Coster paced easily forward, waving a hand in front of Cisco's face. Ramon didn't even blink. And yes, it really was Ramon. Harry could feel him... would know him even in this place of madness. The Fallen Watcher dropped his hand. “You're so certain that you two are destined?” He moved toward Harry, stopping just out of arms reach. “Then get through to him. Use your bond. He's already given in to the truth, Doctor. Why haven't you?”

“Because I _can't_ believe it.” Harry grated out, ignoring the pain in his shoulder. He couldn't heal it. He'd tried, but nothing was happening. He had no power here, which was very, very bad. “I know, somehow, that what you showed me...” he shook his head, “That we were put together? I know that's true. That someone or something made us soulmates. But I meant what I said. It changes nothing. For either of us.” He took a painful step forward, blood seeping through his fingers. “I believe in us. I always have. I don't care what you or anyone else says or does. I'm not giving up on him. Not now, not ever.”

Coster nodded, gave a quick smile, and smacked Harry strangely amicably on his hurt shoulder, making him double over in pain. “Good. I'd hoped you'd say that. Now let's test the strength of your resolve, shall we?” He moved away, Harry breathing hard as he forced himself to stand up straight again. Cisco was still just standing there, in some sort of strange daze. The crowd at Harry's back, inside the dome, suddenly let out a burst of cries as the dome shifted and shrunk again. 

“He's going to kill them.” Coster whispered near Cisco's ear. Harry shook his head.

“Ramon, look at me.” Harry demanded. “I'm right here, sweetheart...” He watched a soft confusion play on Cisco's features as he met Harry's gaze. Like he knew his voice, but couldn't see his face. “You know this isn't right, this isn't _real!_ ” He grated out, unable to hide the pain in his voice. His hands were trembling now. Was he really losing that much blood? Had the bullet struck a vein? Could that even happen in this unreal place?

“Can't you hear them screaming, Cisco? They're so scared! He's going to kill all of them, unless you kill him first...” Coster kept pushing. A voice in Cisco's head, the keeper of this whole terrible design.

“Ramon, no... whatever you're seeing, whatever he's telling you... none of this is real, dammit!” He urged. “I'm real! _We are real!_ ” Cisco's hand tensed on the gun, his finger curling a little more around the trigger as a range of confusion and determination spread across his features. “Ramon, _it's me!_ ” He pleaded, taking a step forward. He had to get through to him. Had to get him to see. To _feel._ Cisco's face grew stern. And Harry knew he had run out of time. He simply stopped thinking and lunged forward the moment the gun went off, grabbing Cisco by the face, his bloody fingers smearing Cisco's skin on one side as pain filled his chest, his lung, his everything...

“We're supposed to be...” He groaned out, pressing his head to Cisco's, squeezing his eyes shut at the pain, at the blood he could feel working its way up his throat. “You... you told me that....” He felt a strange cold creep into every limb as tears escaped his eyes, every joint beginning to give out, and he slowly sunk to his knees, holding on to the one thing that made sense in all of this: the love he had for Ramon...

* * *

“Ramon... look at me...”

_Harry's voice. That was Harry's voice... right?_

“You know this isn't right! This isn't real!”

_He was in pain, Cisco could hear it. Was he hurt?_

“Can't you hear them screaming, Cisco? They're so scared! He's going to kill all of them, unless you kill him first...”

_That voice. Distorted. Male. But not. He recognized it. Knew it, like a ghost of a memory._

_But the crying... the kids! Their parents pleading for help! And then there was this guy he didn't know, standing before him holding some sort of device... smiling... waiting to push a button... kill them all. Cisco'd already shot him once. It didn't seem to deter him much._

_The gun in his hand felt like it weighed a million pounds. But he lifted it again anyway, only slightly confused as to why he was using a gun and not his powers at this point._

“Ramon, it's me!”

_...Harry? He sounded so desperate..._

_Then the man before him moved, to push the button... and Cisco had to stop him... had to. All those kids..._

_And without any further hesitation, Cisco pulled the trigger..._

_But then... then he felt him, felt the pull of him, a burning and steady energy he would know anywhere. A strange fog lifted off his senses, pulled him out of everything he'd thought he'd been seeing. None of it was real or mattered. All he could hear, feel and taste was Harry. And then he saw him, saw Harry! Had Cisco just... no, no! He'd shot him!_

“Ha... Harry?!”

“We're supposed to be...” _Harry groaned out._ "You... you told me that." _And the whole world fell painfully away, Cisco clinging to his husband with everything he had..._

* * *

_'We are buried in broken dreams,_  
_We are knee deep without a plea._  
_I don't want to know what it's like_  
_To live without you._  
_Don't want to know the other side_  
_Of a world without you...'_

* * *

“Harry!” Cisco's voice met his ears, panicked, horrified and startled all at once. “No! No, no no no!” Ramon's hands clung to him, his body following him to the floor. Yes, it was just a floor now. The same white walled, windowless and large room he'd first seen. Cisco lay directly beside him, into him, hands trying to cover the holes in his shoulder and chest. “Oh, god... no, Harry, heal it! Heal, dammit!”

Harry shook his head slowly, reaching up, bloody fingertips touching Cisco's cheek shakily. “Can't.” He managed, and watched Cisco's face crumple. “Don't... this isn't... isn't your fault.” Cisco flattened his head against Harry's chest. Sobbing. Full on, desperate cries escaping his whole body as he clung to Harry uselessly. But he couldn't let him stay that way. Harry had done what he'd come to do... he'd gotten Cisco back, pulled him out of whatever trance Coster had put him, gotten him to see. Now he just had to get him home. “Look...” he swallowed, “Look at me, Ramon.” When Cisco lifted his head, he offered a smile. “You have to go now.”

“What?” He blinked, confused.

“Axiom... he's here. I can feel him. Just... hold on to me. He'll... he'll get you back.” He coughed then, blood sputtering up between his lips, pain shooting through every inch of his body. When it passed, Cisco was just shaking his head, crying. “You need to know... I can't... I...” he couldn't get it out, it was too hard to breathe now. It was strange to think that all this was happening metaphysically, but was still really happening. 

He knew he was dying. Or at least his _soul_ was. That's what this was... the death of his soul... shit.

“No, no way, man. I'm not leaving without you, are you nuts?!” Cisco blurted. But Harry nodded softly, forcing a smile. Anything to comfort him. Anything he could.

“I don't care... what anyone says, Cisco.” He whispered, “You and I were always meant... to be. We're meant to love each other.” And just like that, there wasn't pain anymore. There was just... emptiness, and a very real knowledge that his time was up. Very, very up. “Hold on to me. Till you see the... p... purple.” He pushed out, coughing a little. “You're... going home...” 

The last thing that registered to him was Cisco's hands shaking him. Cisco's voice pleading, words of 'I love you, dammit' and 'Don't you dare leave me' filling the space between them...

And then the room faded away into darkness and long dead stars, into galaxies and universes and suns burning beyond human reach... 

Into a far away empty, a place with no name, where only souls could dare to go, the briefest flash of purple in the distance promising him that the only soul who truly knew his was finally going home...

* * *

_A fraction of a memory,_  
_Pieces of a dream long gone..._  
_I can see it slipping,_  
_All that's left of me is gone..._

* * *

_Harrison Wells, Francisco Ramon... I see you. Now you must see me._

_Long ago, before 'mankind' was even a thought, I was here to help create all the many horrors, mysteries and wonders the Multiverse holds. I was here to form the biways, to build the planets, to construct everything that exists... space, time, matter, energy... all the physical and metaphysical laws and constants you know, and those you do not. I was one of the Great Creators. The one they once called Darkness. The one from whom you, my dearest children, have gained so much. And endured so much._

_The Fallen One believes you were manipulated together. That the laws of the Multiverse are set in stone, and that two separate souls from separate universes should not be bonded as you are. But such rules do not pertain to me. You see... I knew of you before you existed. I knew of your souls before they were formed. And I knew then, as I do now, that you were destined to be as one. The laws of the Multiverse do not pertain to one who helped create them. So yes, perhaps I did manipulate the cosmos. I opened a door. I allowed your souls to see one another. But I did not connect you. I did not bind you. It was the two of you who did that. All of your own formidable will._

_Understand, of all the things my kind and I created in the beginning, of all the wonders we made, the greatest of all is love. Its truth, its purity is the most powerful force there is. It is capable of changing entire worlds, of moving earth and sea, of reigniting stars, of saving even the most worthless among the cosmos. It is this force, this power, that brought you two together._

_For a moment, you doubted this. For a moment, you faltered. But in the end, when it mattered most, you held onto the truth you knew. Something you have repeated continually to one another... you are supposed to be._

_Now rest, my children. Your love is safe. You have done all that needs to be done for now. What each of you have endured, the torment... the sorrow... my very being burns with pain for you both. And you will have ample time to make the Fallen One pay for his misdeeds._

_For now, take hope in this... You are not alone. I have been here the whole time. And I will carry you until Harrison Wells is strong enough to once again be rejoined with Francisco Ramon._

_This is not how your story ends._

_This is only the beginning..._

 

* * *

 _Please don't slip away,_  
_cause I'll just keep breaking._  
_Don't let this be the end,_  
_don't let this be the end..._

 _Dark water's caving in._  
_You were the light I knew._  
_Don't know how to pretend,_  
_cause I'm not bulletproof..._

* * *

The medlab was quiet, warm, familiar, safe. The lights were off, monitors bathing everything in soft hues. No one else was there, but it was probably better that way now. Every reason it should have been comforting to be awake didn't register to Cisco. Every reason he should have been relieved didn't seem to manifest. Because when he'd woken up, he'd woken up to the horrible realization that Harry...

He squeezed his eyes shut for the thousandth time, curling himself even more into his husband's still frame where they laid on the pushed together medical beds. _'The human body... it can't live without a soul...'_ Hope's pained words echoed in his head again and he turned his face into Harry's chest, hand curling into his sweater. 

'But he's not human, right? Not really, I mean he's... that elemental thing... and the Change?' _Maggie begged, pleaded, hugging on to Jesse as tears covered both girls' faces._

'Which is the only reason his body is still functioning. But... he's... Harrison is gone.' _Hope said, her voice shaking, fresh tears streaming down her face._

Cisco had wanted to scream, to rail at her, to tell her she was wrong. But he had held Harry in that hell Coster had put them in. He'd felt the blood, warm and terrible. He'd felt Harry fade away as Axiom and Hope yanked Cisco back into the world of the living. And yet... he couldn't accept it, not really. He couldn't bring himself to say what his brain was telling him was true. Because there was just no way that Harry could really be dead... right? As long as his body was still working, there had to be a chance.

Or that was the lie he told himself as he laid there in the quiet, holding onto the shell of the man he loved. 

And yes, he still loved him. Despite everything he'd learned, everything he now knew. He loved him, more than anything or anyone. Because Harry had known the truth, too... and he saved Cisco anyway. 

From the moment they'd met to now, Cisco'd loved the man. Even if he hadn't known it at the start, he knew it now. And even if something out there decided they should be together, it was Cisco and Harry that had made it real. It was the two of them that had made it work. It was their choice, their hearts, their love that made it real.

Cisco let out a shaken breath, lifting his head, looking at Harry's far too quiet and still face. He reached a hand up, using his fingers to trace the curve of Harry's brow, down to his cheek bone, across his lips. He could feel the subtle breath Harry let out. The only real proof that his body was working. But there was no Harry there. Cisco was touching, for all intents and purposes, the suitcase that had held everything that was Harry. “I love you.” He let himself whisper again. He'd lost count how many times he'd said it now. And he closed his eyes as tears flooded out, settling himself back where he'd been, holding onto Harry. 

Harry might have saved him from Coster, for now. But in a very real way, Cisco was still in hell. Life without Harrison Wells... _his_ Harrison Wells... he wasn't prepared for what that entailed. He wasn't ready for that sort of existence. He was pretty damn sure he never would be. Because whether or not they'd been manufactured this way, Harry _is_ his soulmate. Plain and simple. 

If Harry was dead, so was he. 

Hell was being alive without the other half of his soul, and praying every awful waking moment that he could be whole again with the only person he had ever truly loved...

* * *

_'Love is as strong as death, as hard as hell. Death separates the soul from the body, but love separates all things from the soul...'_

* * *

Axiom watched from the chair in the corner of the room, bathed in shadows that were far too still. He hadn't left since Cisco had returned. He didn't dare. For whatever reason, Coster was nowhere to be seen or heard or felt. But that didn't mean he was done with them. And Cisco was so very vulnerable just then. He wasn't about to abandon him when he needed protection the most. 

He also couldn't bring himself to leave Harry. 

He understood, deep down, that what he was looking at was simply a body. After running her tests, Caitlin had tearfully said, _'His brain is essentially dead, functioning only enough to keep his higher bodily functions working.'_ Medically, she wasn't wrong. But Hope was right, too. Harry's soul was just... not there. But did that mean he was dead? Did that mean he was really gone? He should have thought so. He was smart enough to understand the truth of such things. Even sense the truth of such things.

But there was something not quite right about it all. 

He waited till long after Cisco had fallen into an exhausted, terrible, heartbroken sleep before he stood up, stretching his limbs and tail, hopping off the chair as quietly as possible before moving to Harry's bedside. The monitors beeped softly with every heartbeat Harry's body had to make. His chest rose and fell in steady waves. His body was functioning properly, to be sure. 

Axiom sniffed him gently, nose moving up his leg, to his hand, up his arm, to his shoulder, to his head. Then he put his front paws on the bed itself and stood on his hind legs, looking over both Harry and the sleeping Cisco, who had pretty much wrapped himself entirely around Harry's not-moving form. He glanced out into the Cortex, where the others still lingered, their sorrow still palpable even now, before looking back down at Harry's chest. _'Soul.'_ He thought. _'Where is it?'_

He let his energy spill out of himself. Spread in waves in every direction, but focused at the center of Harry's chest. He could sense every person in the building, sense their sorrow so heavily that it almost made him falter, but he shook his head a little and focused. He could smell the plants in the hallways, the rain outside, the saltiness of dried tears on Cisco's cheeks. And he could feel every soul. His own. Iris and Barry and Joe and Wally and Jesse and Maggie and Hope and Cisco and... something else. He closed his eyes, letting out a huff of a breath, nose moving back and forth as he attempted to narrow in one what it was he was feeling. But it was hard.

It was so small, so fragile and barely evident that he wasn't even sure he was sensing things properly. But when his energy touched it, it flickered. Like blowing on a candle flame ever so softly. There... right there... in the center of Harry's chest. His eyes flew open and he barked. He barked and barked loudly, wildly even, tail wagging furiously, paws bounding on the hard floor as he went in circles.

It didn't take much to get everyone's attention, or for Cisco to startle awake. Soon the lights were on and everyone was in the room, wide eyed and worried. Maggie, looking exhausted, eyes red from crying, knelt beside him, grabbing his face in her hands. “Stop, Axiom!” She said, searching his face. “Why are you doing that?!” She demanded. And he pulled out of her hold, back to Harry's bedside, paws back on the bed. He nudged Harry's body with his nose, whining a little.

 _'I can feel Harry. Sense Harry.'_ he stated, willing them all to hear, demanding they understand. Cisco stared at him, still not used to the fact that Axiom could talk without talking, but to his great credit, he hadn't questioned it, either. It was Hope who moved up to the beds, reaching past Axiom and placing a single palm on Harry's chest. Everything was irritatingly quiet for a moment. She shook her head.

“Axiom, I ca-” she began sadly. But Axiom barked and unleashed his energy. Flooded it out of himself. Filled the room with it. And Hope gasped, eyes widening, pulling her hand back as she stared down at Harry's body.

“What?!” Demanded Cisco, sitting up some more, a hand curling into Harry's hair. “Say something, dammit!” He exclaimed when all Hope did was glance around the room with her mouth partially open. She looked back at Cisco, then grabbed his hand and put it on Harry's chest, her hand over his. And a stretch of quiet had everyone moving in on the beds. But then... then Cisco's face crumpled. Tears spilled out of his eyes. And he laughed. 

Axiom couldn't help but feel confused by the reaction. 

“He's here.” Cisco patted Harry's chest softly. “He's right here.” He lowered himself down onto Harry's chest and just sighed, closing his eyes and holding on. “I knew it.” And Axiom wasn't confused anymore. Everyone crowded closer, sighs of relief, new tears from Maggie and Jesse joining Cisco's as everyone either laughed or put hands on Cisco and Harry or hugged one another. A feeling of mutual relief drowned out his energy, and he was more than happy to let it. 

An hour later, Hope had informed everyone she thought Harry was tethered somewhere else. Healing from what Coster had done. That his soul was still alive, but just needed time. She wasn't sure how. But it didn't matter. Time was something everyone seemed more than willing to give Harry. 

“You knew all along, didn't you.” Hope asked him as she sat down on the floor beside him, just outside the medlab. He glanced up at her, stretching out one limb, tilting his head in question. She smiled, carding her fingers through the hair between his shoulders. “That their bond would survive all this.” He just wagged his tail in response. He didn't need to say anything. The days ahead were still uncertain. And no one really knew what the two of them had been through because Cisco hadn't really said. But Axiom knew they would be alright in the end. Because Axiom knew real power when he saw it. And there was nothing and no one more powerful than the love these two men had for each other. It showed in everything they did, in the people who surrounded them, in the truth that Harry was still holding on.

Coster had no idea what he'd done. Or what he was in for. He'd focused on the wrong team, the wrong people. If and when he came back, he would have more than just a fight on his hands. He'd have a hell of his own making. There were just some fates that couldn't be outrun...

**Author's Note:**

> (To be continued...)


End file.
